


Necromonger way

by Cirilla9



Category: The Chronicles of Riddick (2004)
Genre: Abuse of Authority, F/M, M/M, Power Imbalance, Rape/Non-con Elements, gratuitous animal comparisons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-27 21:32:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15693789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cirilla9/pseuds/Cirilla9
Summary: After gaining the power, you need to secure it. Riddick shows who's the alpha male on the ship.





	Necromonger way

„You missed a spot here,” said the new Lord Marshall, pointing at the stain left on his armor, the dried blood of the previous Lord Marshall.

“We do not clean armor. Necromongers believe it's an honor to show damages left by battles one was in,” Vaako struggled to keep his voice even, continuing to swipe his spineblade on the honing steel. Perhaps it wasn’t the most dignified behavior to engage in in Lord Marshall’s presence, but were he to wait till the new leader would leave him alone, he would never got to his work. Riddick had the unsettling habit of stalking him and though the presence was unwelcome, Vaako could hardly say so to the new Lord Marshall. He wasn’t this one’s favorite like he was Zhylaw’s.

Besides, regular movements calmed him and it was a highly desirable quality while being exposed to all the nerve-wracking remarks.

“Pff, wouldn't have one thing on me if I were to go this way,” Riddick, as always, did not fail to meet his reputation as an uncivilized brute. Vaako did his best to ignore the insult and remain his serene composure.

Sounds of metal grinding on metal were the only ones in the room. Riddick kept staring at him with disturbing intensity, as if even without it his presence wasn’t almost too much to bear. The animal-like shine in the Furyan’s eyes conferred upon them an impression of being able to look into one’s inside.

“Do you ever crack a smile on these colorless expressions? Seriously, most of the time I feel like I got myself into some goth themed party. Faces deathly pale, eyes made up to resemble skeleton’s empty sockets, bevors shaped into Jolly Roger’s smile. Really, you look like a bunch of children dressed on Halloween.”

Vaako’s grip tightened onto the weapons he held but his pace did not waver. That is, until Riddick didn’t knock the sharpening rod out of his hands. Reflexes were applied much quicker than conscious thinking and before Vaako considered what he was doing, he stood with knife pointing at Riddick’s throat, inches from his skin, stopped by the Furyan’s clasp around his wrist.

Realization hitting him, Vaako tried to take his hand back, all conversion-ingrained indoctrination screaming at him to not act against the rightful ruler. Yet with Riddick holding his hand in a steely clutch he could only do as much as let the blade drop to the ground.

He expected a fist to the face, a kick to the stomach, being thrown to the other side of the room or any similar violent way of showing him his place. His eyes went wide as instead he was pulled into Riddick’s personal space, grabbed by the braids at the back of his head and kissed hard, with Lord Marshall’s tongue shoving into his mouth. He didn’t struggle more out of the pure shock than the obedience rule.

“What are you doing?” he asked as soon as he was let go.

Riddick’s eyes were hard to read but Vaako could swear he saw amusement in them.

“Trying to draw a reaction from you, zombie. I saw you people walking with daggers pointing out your backs without noticing something is off. If you don’t react to pain or any taunt, maybe pleasure would do it.”

\---------------------------------------------

He used on him verbal orders and Furyan fighting skills in equal measures and Vaako stood no chance against Necromonger conditioning turning on him and a superior physical strength no one was a match for.

Lying bare on a pile of gravity guns he felt as defenseless and vulnerable as the dog showing its stomach to indicate submission and tameness. And Riddick took it like it was a natural order of things, an obvious hierarchy, exerting his power over him, dominating a lesser being.

Lord Marshall wasn’t even rough, deliberately slowing his ways and gentling his touches, and this lack of aggression was perhaps the worst aspect of the whole ordeal for Vaako couldn’t even put into use the Necromonger philosophy of how ‘one pain can lessen another’. He could only lie still and took what the other choose to give him.

Riddick used the weapon oil on him and Vaako resented him for depriving him of even that little ache, for making him feel shame and humiliation and unwanted arousal yet more keenly.

Against his will, he was reduced to moaning and writhing in pleasure and whenever he tried to fight it, he was stopped by a sharp word or a firm hand keeping him in place.

\----------------------------------------------

Wrath raging within him spiked up to a hurricane as upon returning to his quarters he was met with Dame’s sharp dark gaze that quickly and accusingly settled onto the hickey on his neck. Not even a bite, _a hickey_ , for Riddick never once broke his skin with nails or teeth.

“Where were you?” her tone was suspicious with a grain of true worry.

“It’s not your damn business!” he snarled and made to pass her but she stepped into his way.

When she raised her slim arm to slid his high collar aside and examine the stigmatizing mark more closely, he pushed her away so brutally she fell to the floor. She raised herself quickly, now angry as well.

“Who were you with?” she hissed. “I can’t believe it! Any moment that usurper can issue an order to kill us before our due time and you have the time to get someone on the side!”

“Believe me I’d much prefer joining you in self-pity than satisfying ‘that usurper’s’ wishes!”

Dame Vaako fell silent and the roaring flames of wrath in her eyes diminished, then turned into the glint of delight as she proceeded his shouted out words.

“That’s- a wonderful thing, dear husband.”

“He just made me into his toy, how is that wonderful?!” Vaako slammed the flat of his hand against the desk surface as his wife precautionary placed herself outside of his hitting range.

“Because he is the Lord Marshall,” Dame’s voice was collected once more, as she was forming a plan already and scheming always rented her a sense of being in control, “and wanting you in that way means we can gain influence over him. I wondered why he wasn’t reacting that eagerly on my luring that day I first brought him here, he seemed so distracted. How could I miss he looked after you.”

Her giggle increased Vaako’s agitation.

“That’s not funny!”

“Relax,” she purred, approaching him with a swing to her hips, “come to me,” hand beckoning him rested onto his chest, this time cautiously omitting the mark on the neck, “and we can discuss how to bend this new turn of the situation to our favor.”


End file.
